


Damned If I Do (Bored If I Don't)

by PrioritiesSorted



Series: You're Not Going to Kiss Me, Are You? [2]
Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, First Kiss, Infidelity, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrioritiesSorted/pseuds/PrioritiesSorted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, Paris?” </p>
<p>“Yeah?” </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you kiss me during Romeo and Juliet?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damned If I Do (Bored If I Don't)

**Author's Note:**

> So here (finally) is the second installation of "You're Not Going To Kiss Me, Are You?" this time positing when in S2 would be the best time for Paris and Rory's first kiss. I wanted to work Richard and Paris being BFFs into this somewhere, but then it went in an angsty direction that I didn't anticipate so... yeah...

Rory is still trying to gather herself as she goes to collect Dean’s ice-cream from the kitchen. She feels a little guilty eating it without him, but it’s not like he could object to her sharing it with Paris. When she returns to the living room, Paris is rifling through the stacks of VCRs,

“So,” Paris says, without looking up, “you gonna tell me what the hell all of that was about, or are we just gonna watch a movie?”

“All of what?” Rory asks, and Paris turns to glare at her.

“That little macho showdown on the porch. You’ve got yourself quite a little fanclub, Gilmore.”

“It’s not like that. Jess and I are just friends.”

“Which is why grocery boy looked like he was about to pop a vein back there.”

Rory shrugged, half hoping that if she didn’t make a big deal of it, then it would cease to be a big deal. She may not have total faith in the approach, but it’s the only one she’s got.

“He doesn’t like Jess. Not just because of me, I mean they’re just really different and they don’t like each other so Dean’s just… mistrustful of him, I guess.”

“Of him, or of you?”

“What?”

“Well, for him to be that jealous there’s got to be a part of him that thinks you like Jess back, and that you’d act on it.” Paris says, and Rory has to admit it sounds like sense.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Paris.”

“So you _don’t_ like Jess, then?”

“Of course I like him, he’s a good friend.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Gilmore. You know what I mean.”

“I guess he’s just… different. He’s not from Stars Hollow, he’s smart, he doesn’t care what people think. And it’s nice to be able to talk to someone here about my interests; I mean Dean is really smart and he tries but he’s just not into the same stuff as me so it’s just… it’s nice,” Rory finishes pathetically, and Paris rolls her eyes.

“A lot of people fill those criteria, y’know.”

“Well, none of them are here now, are they?”

Paris gives her a look that suggests she is both disappointed in and astounded by Rory’s stupidity. It’s not a new look.

“Let’s just watch the movie.”

“Okay, what’d you pick?”

“This one. I’ve never seen it.”

Paris holds up one of the few VCRs they had actually bought from a video store: Romeo and Juliet. Rory groans.

“God, are you not sick of that play?”

“We don’t have to watch it if you-“ It’s so out of character for Paris that Rory is taken aback for a moment, but then she remembers how surprised Paris had been when Rory had invited to her to stay, so she smiles and says,

“No, no it’s fine.”

They’re quiet through most of the movie, Paris rarely offering a cutting commentary, which Rory took as her enjoying it, until that final scene. With Leo bending tenderly over Claire’s body in the neon-lit church, Rory finds herself wondering,

“Hey, Paris?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you kiss me during Romeo and Juliet?”

“What?”

“Well, you said ‘thus with a kiss I die’ and then you just… died, without the kissing.”

There’s a pause, and she can hear Paris shuffling about on the couch behind her, but she can’t quite bring herself to turn around.

“Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t, I was just wondering…”

Paris huffs,

“If you wanted me to kiss you so bad-“

“I did not _want_ you to kiss me.” Rory spins around to find Paris sat up on the couch, looking down at her with a smirk.

“Oh really? Because it kinda sounds like you did,” she teases, and Rory feels her face flush.

“I did not.”

“Okay, Gilmore, whatever you say.”

“Can we stop talking about this now?”

“You’re the one who brought it up.” Paris points out.

“Well now I wanna bring it down.” Rory pouts, and half wishes she’d never said anything, because she’s never been so embarrassed in her life, but she’s also nose to nose with Paris now, and she’s not going to get distracted by how deep and dark Paris’s eyes are.

“It’s not the Berlin Wall, Rory.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Rory does. It lasts about two seconds before she freaks out and starts to pull away, but that’s also when Paris starts _kissing her back_ , and Rory gets lost in the sensation. Paris’s lips are soft and her hair is soft and the purple wool of her jumper is _really_ soft, but her kisses are hard and unrelenting. It frightens Rory a little, but the pounding of her heart is joyful; Dean always touched her like he was afraid she would break, but Paris knows better. Paris’s fingers dig into her hips, and her teeth graze Rory’s lips, and this was nothing like kissing Dean-

_Dean._ Rory pulls away, and just for a second she forgets what she’s about to say, because Paris looks slightly spaced out, and her lips are very red.

“What was-“ Rory starts, but she knows the answer to her own question already. She’s afraid to meet Paris’s eyes again because she doesn’t know what she’ll find there, and they’re still so close. Instead, they both sit and breathe for long seconds, and Rory can’t help but marvel at the fact that Paris appears to be speechless.

“I’m not an expert, but I think it was a kiss,” she says eventually, and Rory rolls her eyes.

“I know that. I just meant… It’s not cheating if it’s a girl, right?”

“Oh sure, when you’re drunk at a frat party and it’s for the purpose of getting your boyfriend hot,” Paris supplies helpfully. “This? This is cheating.”

“No. No it isn’t.”

“You’re not stupid, Rory. Just admit it.”

“No! I’m not a cheater. That’s not who I am.”

“Oh, please. Spare me your ‘I’m so innocent and I’ve never done anything wrong’ shtick. It’s tired and it’s not gonna work on me,” Paris snaps, and Rory almost reels back, confused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Paris lets out a mirthless laugh, looking Rory up and down in that hostile way she used to in those first days of Chilton. Rory hasn’t missed that look. The venom that Rory had thought belonged in the past brims on Paris’s tongue as she spits,

“You act like this naïve little small town princess because that’s who everyone expects you to be, ‘oh Rory, she’s so smart and so pretty and so sweet she would _never_ cheat on her boyfriend’, but isn’t that what this whole thing is about?”

“What whole thing?”

“The whole thing with Mr Beats-and-Jean-Jackets. You said yourself: you like him ‘cause he’s exciting, because he’s so _not Stars Hollow._ He’s the sort of boy who wouldn’t have a problem going behind Dean’s back – he’s made his intentions pretty clear. I think you like the idea that a guy like him would be interested in a girl like you, because secretly, you think you’re a little bit boring. You find yourself boring because this whole act isn’t _really_ you, but _he_ thinks you’re exciting, sitting there all deep and brooding just waiting to take your virginity in the back seat of a borrowed car. Why do you think you kissed me in the first place? Because it was wrong. It was something another girl would do: someone who was reckless and impulsive and imperfect, someone who would cheat on her boyfriend, with another girl no less, and wouldn’t have to worry about it tarnishing her perfect reputation. Someone like your Mom.”

The silence rings between them as Paris finishes her rant, breathing heavily because she never seems to remember to actually take breath during her more colourful speeches.

“You done?” Rory says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Great.”

Twenty minutes later, Paris’s Nanny is there to pick her up, and she’s gone. If Rory cries herself to sleep, it isn't because of her. It isn't. 

 

* * *

 

Rory knows she should talk to her Mom about this, she knows it. She knows Lorelai will listen and sympathise and never blame her for making mistakes, but still she can’t quite bring herself to cross the living room and sit down next to her Mom on the couch. It takes eight deep breaths before Rory feels able to say,

“Hey, Mom. You know when you said I had to do something bad while Mommy was out of town?”

“Is this about the prostitution ring you’re operating out of the garage because I totally noticed,” Lorelai answers, without looking up from the magazine in front of her. “Good job, much better than bikers and lowlifes trashing the place, I don’t know what I thinking.”

“Seriously, Mom.”

Lorelai looks up, concern in her eyes, and Rory hates that her Mom is worried. She wants to reassure her that it’s nothing, that she’s really fine, just needs some motherly advice, but the words can’t quite come out.

“Okay, okay. What’s up?” Lorelai says, gesturing for Rory to join her on the couch instead of hovering at the foot of the stairs.

“So, you know I told you that Jess came over and then Dean found out and Paris covered for me?”

“And then you and Paris had a slumber party, yeah. Still attempting to picture that.”

“It’s… it’s about that, actually.”

“I can’t really imagine Paris meshing well with bikers and lowlifes.”

“Oh you’d be surprised.”

Lorelai frowns, confused for a moment, before Rory blurts,

“We kissed. Me and Paris.”

“You and Paris? You kissed?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“I know I’m just… processing. Nope, sorry kid, you’re gonna have to explain that one to me.”

“It just sort of… happened, I guess. We were bickering and then- I kissed her.”

“ _You_ kissed _her_?”

“Yeah. And I feel terrible because I cheated on Dean and I hurt Paris’s feelings and she said some things that- I told her she was wrong but I don’t think… I don’t think she was wrong.” Rory’s lip wobbles, and then the tears are coming, and Rory is trying to wipe them away even as they spill over to wet her cheeks.

“Oh, honey.” Lorelai pulls Rory into a hug, cradling her against her chest as she strokes Rory’s hair.

“It’s just… I don’t know what to do.”

“About Dean?”

“About Dean. And about Paris.”

“Oh.” Lorelai’s hand stills in Rory’s hair, and Rory’s heart almost stops beating, “You mean…”

“I like her, Mom.” Rory’s voice is barely above a whisper, and she chokes on the words as Lorelai tightens her arms around her.

“You know that’s okay, right?” Lorelai says, her face pressed into Rory’s hair. “All I want is for you to be happy, and if being with Paris makes you happy-“

“But I don’t _know,_ Mom. I’ve always known what I wanted, and suddenly I don’t,” Rory sniffles, and she feels Lorelai’s soft huff of laughter.

“Welcome to the world, baby.”

They stay there for long minutes, Rory’s sobs subsiding as Lorelai places soft kisses on the top of her head. Eventually, Lorelai breaks the silence.

“Y’know, there’s definitely an upside to dating Paris.”

“Oh yeah?”

“At least you’re not gonna get pregnant.”

 

* * *

 

It’s over a week before Rory works up the courage to talk to Paris at school. Breaking up with Dean had been hard; he’d looked at her like she was betraying him, which she sort of was, but not the way he thought. She couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him the real reason, half afraid he’d laugh, and half afraid he’d take it all too seriously.

Paris, however, is a different story. When they’d fought before, Paris had been all open antagonism and hostility, but now she is quiet and withdrawn, refusing to even meet Rory’s eye in the hallway, and Rory can’t stand it. If she’d been even a little unsure before, she isn’t now; she misses Paris so much it hurts, because she is, apparently, a walking cliché.

After half a dozen attempts to speak to Paris, each ending with her voice sticking in her throat, Rory resorts to grabbing Paris’s hand as she passes by at the end of the day. Paris looks daggers at her for a moment before relenting and letting Rory pull her into a nearly deserted courtyard.

“What do you want, Gilmore?”

Paris’s expression is one Rory knows all too well: closed off, angry, hurt. She stammers for a moment, wishing she could find the words to perfectly explain everything she’s been feeling since that night, but she settles for,

“I guess I wanted to say that you were right the other night, but you were wrong as well.” Paris is looking at her expectantly and Rory clenches her fists as she continues, “I mean, you were right about Dean and Jess and wanting to be more… to be someone different I guess. But you were wrong about why I kissed you. I mean, maybe that was a small part of it but mostly I just did it because I wanted to. It was stupid of me to do it then, and I’m sorry for how I acted afterwards but I don’t regret it. If I hadn’t kissed you then I might never have realised how I really felt and who I really was, and I’ll apologise if I made you uncomfortable but you did kiss me back which I hope means that you weren’t… uncomfortable I mean. But if you were I’m really sorry.”

“You said that already,” Paris points out.

“Right, yeah. Um, that’s it I guess. Wait- I broke up with Dean. Yeah.”

“You broke up with Dean?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Why?”

“Well I realised that I kinda have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if they like me back or not, though.”

Paris rolls her eyes, and there’s a brittleness to her voice when she says,

“Oh, he’s definitely into you.”

“Who?” Rory frowns, confused.

“Jess.”

She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Rory wants to kick herself for avoiding Paris all this time, for letting her think Rory didn’t want her, even as a friend. She’s still not completely sure that Paris likes her that way, but the look in Paris’s eyes reminds Rory of Luke looks at her mom, and that’s got to mean something. She takes a steading breath before she says,

“That’s… kinda unfortunate, considering I’m not talking about him.”

Paris’s voice is so small it’s barely there when she asks,

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

When Paris kisses her, it’s soft and tentative, almost as if she’s afraid Rory will run away. Rory has no plans of the sort, and wraps her arms around Paris’s waist, pulling her in and smiling against Paris’s lips. It feels a little weird to have to lean down to kiss her, but Rory’s heart swells when Paris rises up on her toes just a little to press them closer together. Rory is vaguely aware that they are still on school property and could be discovered at any moment, but she can’t quite bring herself to care.


End file.
